Not All Poison Kills
by HecateA
Summary: While sorting through the magical relics and artefacts of Grimmauld Place, Sirius stumbled upon a rare chance to see his old friends once more. The price, for now, does not matter much. Oneshot.


**Author's Note:** I'm actually really, really happy with how this story turned out—so please excuse the twelve hundred lines of submission info to various competitions and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings:** Character is drugged/poisoned, canon character deaths, grief, depression, alcoholism, and PTSD are all part of characterization.

* * *

**Wigtown Wanderers, Chaser 2**

**Prompt:** (Mirror Dimension) Write about a story where good is evil and evil is good, or you could write about reverse characterizations. Think polar opposite from canon.

**Additional prompts:** [Setting] 12 Grimmauld Square, [Painting] Van Gogh's The Starry Night, [Action] Whistling

**Word count:** 2677

* * *

**Hogwarts:** Ravenclaw, Psychology Task #3: Write about something highly emotional.

* * *

**Not All Poisons Kill**

Sirius hauled another box from the attic down to what had once been Orion Black's study. The furniture in the room had since been draped in white cloth, but in Sirius' opinion the space had always been dead and empty, even at the height of Orion's occupation of it.

He pulled on a pair of dragonskin gloves. The day had barely started but Sirius was already exhausted by all the cleaning and sorting he'd be doing today. What else was there to do in the house now that Harry and the other children had gone back to school? And since the full moon had been just last night, Remus, for all intents and purposes, was also out of the picture, sleeping away another night of damage—possibly with a pink-haired Auror keeping him warm. Sirius was, astoundingly, not in a prying mood that day. He didn't begrudge Remus his happiness but… it must be nice; that was all.

This box's theme seemed to be silverware, and Sirius wearily laid out the items one by one. Perhaps he'd save a teaspoon for Kreacher; one of them deserved to find happiness in these chores. The only object that seemed out of place was an ornate chalice with intricately scaled snakes serving as handles and twisted around the stem.

He examined it more closely. He'd never seen this before… Nor did he recognize the passage inscribed on the inside of the goblet:

_No poison in this cup you'll find,_

_Only your fate, if so inclined_

_Drink but a drop or drain it all,_

_No matter which, you'll feel the call_

_Of the world as it could be_

_If you align yourself with me_

As he brought the cup closer for further investigation, it filled itself with a clear, yellowing liquid that might have been white wine. It smelled like the most potent amortentia Sirius had ever encountered; it was sugar and cinnamon, pear and almond, sandalwood and leather, oil and tobacco, ink and whisky...

But there was something more to it, because before he could even think it through—and think of the consequences of this decisively stupid action, which should have stopped him from doing it—Sirius drank from the chalice.

* * *

He knew exactly where he was, but not how he'd gotten there or how it could be.

Because it couldn't be possible—Sirius had seen the cottage destroyed, had witnessed firsthand the fallout of Lily and James Potter's deaths.

Or at least it _shouldn't_ be possible; but there he was, sitting at his usual spot at their kitchen table.

His usual spot meaning the red chair, of course. Lily, in an effort not to be anything like her sister, had curated the most eccentric kitchen in the world. The walls were a welcoming, warm, buttery yellow. The kitchen table was a used, wooden round thing with uneven legs surrounded by a mismatched rainbow of chairs. Sirius was always red, Remus blue, Peter yellow, Lily green, and James purple. Harry's highchair wasn't there, for whatever reason.

"Oye, answer the question Padfoot," he heard behind him.

He spun around and—astoundingly, impossibly, _thankfully_—there was James. He was padding around the kitchen wearing Muggle jeans and his favourite Holyhead Harpies' sweater; the one with the fading team logo and the hole in the elbow that he refused to sew up, just in case it lost its luck during playoffs. His hair was messy as always—Merlin, Sirius sometimes forgot how Harry hadn't licked his chronic shagginess off the wall.

"I… I didn't hear," Sirius stumbled out.

"What did you want in your grilled cheese?" James said.

"Are you making Lily the triple-cheese one?" Sirius asked tentatively.

"Of course," he said. "I _am_ running for Husband of the Year. You want one, too? I can add ham to yours."

"Sure," Sirius said. "Thanks, Prongs."

James nodded and turned back to the stove, whistling to himself as he cooked around the kitchen. It was a habit he'd picked up from his mother. How many times had Sirius watched him fuss around with spices and curry, whistling as he worked? It hadn't mattered for a long time; he'd assumed he'd heard all there was to it ages ago.

Sirius got up and approached the counter. When James didn't look up, as if all of this was perfectly normal, Sirius hopped onto the counter.

"Don't let Lily see you up there," James said.

"I won't," he said. From his perch, he did indeed have a perfect view out of the kitchen and into the living room. The rest of the house looked just as intact; tidy but lived in, with piles of books and empty mugs strewn across the living room. A sweater he recognized as one of Peter's was slung over the back of the sofa.

"How are you?" Sirius asked James.

"Fine," James said looking towards him. He frowned. "What about you, you alright?"

"I'm… I'm doing better than I have in a very long time," Sirius said. He exhaled.

For a second, his best friend's eyes were confused. Then, James patted his shoulder and offered him a smile.

"Glad you're getting over that business with Regulus," James said. "I know he's your brother, but… it wasn't worth it."

Sirius held his peace on that one. What did Regulus have to do with...?

"Right," Sirius said. "I've got you, anyways."

"Exactly," James said. "You've got me and Lily, and Remus and Peter, and all the others."

Sirius nodded along, assuming that James meant the Order. They had been a good group of people…

"I'm lucky to have you," Sirius said. "Again."

"What do you mean 'again'?" James asked. He smiled. "I haven't gone anywhere."

"I know," Sirius said, gulping. He shook his head. "Anyways, where is everyone?"

"Remus and Peter are running a mission; they'll be over for supper though," James said. "Would it kill you to listen for once, Black?"

"Probably, and what a tragedy that would be," Sirius quipped back.

"Goodnight, sweet prince, and may flight of thestrals guide sing thee to thy rest," James said, dramatically reciting the words into the spatula.

Sirius grinned. "What flowers would you buy for my funeral, Potter? Remember that I'm expensive and worth it."

"Oh, black roses," James said. "Dipped in molten gold, no question about it. You?"

Sirius was going to quip back something about whatever he could pick on his way there, but then he froze. The opportunity to choose had been taken away from him before…

He looked around the kitchen. Evans was such a stickler, surely the calendar here would be up-to-date…

1982.

November 1st 1982.

They had survived it. October 31st 1981, the worst day of Sirius' life, had come and gone and there they all were. Remus and Peter, working together. Sirius, a free man. And more importantly, Lily and James, still alive.

Sirius slunked off the counter and crossed the kitchen to go look out of the back door window to the backyard.

"I can't tell if you're being rude or if you just don't know anything about flowers," James quipped.

The tiny slide they'd built for Harry was gone, but otherwise the garden looked just as familiar as the rest of the cottage. The real trouble was the sky.

There were too many blues in it, swirling around one another. That was the first thing that hit Sirius. Once he'd left Azkaban, he'd spent an ample amount of time looking at the sky—longingly, lovingly, obsessively. He'd let entire days go by watching it, utterly consumed, whether it was angrily thundering and shouting, filled with fluffy white clouds that happily passed through, or grey and grumbly and impossibly deep.

So yes; he could tell now that there were too many blues in this sky at once, and they didn't quite mesh well together. The sun and the moon hung on top of each other, as if nobody had settled on what time of day it was. When a breeze blew across Godric's Hollow and ruffled the last few leaves hanging off the trees, he saw a streak of white spiral across the landscape. The stars didn't hang on their own in the sky, but rather they were circled by yellowish circles of pulsing light. It was beautiful, Sirius couldn't deny it. But it was surreal. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

"For the record my favourite flowers are lilies," James piped in.

"What about me?"

Sirius spun around, his heart swelling with excitement and softness as he recognized her voice. He wondered how strange she'd think it was if he closed the gap between them and grabbed her in his arms, because he didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself when he saw her.

But when Lily waltzed into the kitchen with her usual light-footed grace, Sirius froze. Her red hair tumbled loose and free, and there were those green eyes. He hadn't forgotten them, of course. If he had, Harry would have reminded him, though they shined in Lily differently; with a softness and caring and light that Harry had simply never known. She was wearing one of her favourite sundresses, which was yellow and dotted with red and white flowers and tiny green leaves, leaving her arms bare. And against that milky white skin… Sirius refused to believe it, he didn't know how he possibly could, but there was a dark, inky black skull spitting out a snake.

"I was just saying how much I love you," James said.

"Why, did you break a dish?" Lily asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yee of little faith," James huffed. Lily laughed and circled her arms around his waist, resting her chin against his back, between her shoulder blades.

"I was lured down by how good lunch smells. Sirius, sweetheart, are you joining us?"

Sirius didn't know what to say or do.

"He better be, I'm cooking for him too," James said. He pulled up the sleeves of his jumper before turning back to his pan and there was the most impossible thing of the day. James was wearing a Dark Mark, too.

Sirius was even more at a loss. He stumbled back to the window, at the impossible sky that felt so much easier to process now in comparison. His attention lingered on the places where Harry's slide and all the backyard toys should have been… the swing hanging off the tree, which they'd put up way too prematurely out of excitement… Where were the stuffed Quidditch balls James had gotten to 'train him young' and the sandbox where Lily had built an endless amount of sandcastles?

He turned back to Lily and James.

"Where's Harry?" Sirius asked.

Lily's nose scrunched up, in a way Lily Evans Potter's nose would never have scrunched up at the mention of her child.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Where is he?" Sirius repeated. The clock on the wall read 12:35, it wasn't anywhere near one of Harry's nap times...

"Padfoot, stop," James said with that seriousness that Sirius had learned to respect. "I don't know what you're playing at, but you know that boy's fate is no laughing matter."

"His fate?"

He looked at the Dark Marks again, and then back at… at his two friends…

"The things we do to serve the Dark Lord are no joking matter," Lily said.

Sirius stumbled back and drew his wand.

"Where's Harry? You have ten seconds to tell me where he is!" Sirius roared.

"Hey," James said. "Don't point that thing at her, what's the matter with you?"

"You… you've got the…" his eyes were fixed on Lily's arm.

"Of course we do, Sirius," she said gently, as if she was trying to appease a wild beast. "Just like you."

Sirius tore at his sleeve which he pushed up to reveal… his skin. His normal, pale and sickly skin.

This alarmed James, who drew his wand. "How did you get rid of it? Why did you get rid of it?"

Lily drew her wand too and the hairs on the back of Sirius' neck tingled. He was a fair dueler, but against the two of them…

Just then, the back door opened. The strange light from the strange stars illuminated none other than Remus, who looked far too old and tired and worn to be in 1982.

"Sirius!" Remus said. "Come with me!"

Sirius hesitated. His eyes were fixed on James and Lily's Dark Marks. Their wands pointed at him menacingly.

"Sirius!" And then Remus saw it too. His eyes found Sirius' and he raised both of his sleeves. His arms bore no trace of Voldemort's mark either, and Sirius sprinted towards him.

Behind him, Lily and James fired curses. But when Sirius grabbed Remus' hand, they were gone. For a second it was just them and the surreal, wrongly-blue and oddly glowing sky.

* * *

Sirius was on his back on Orion's carpet. He woke up gasping as if he'd been underwater, and when he rolled to his side he coughed out some of the stuff too. No, not water. The potion from the chalice, which had fallen to the floor with him and rolled a few feet away.

Remus was also on the floor, propped up on his forearms, panting.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked.

Sirius fought to regain his breath. Remus put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, slow him down…

"They were Death Eaters," Sirius said. "They'd… they'd done away with Harry…"

"No, not really," Remus said. "Although it was quite a convincing illusion—until you saw the sky, I supposed."

Remus lay with him, slumped on his side with his head propped up on his hand.

"It wasn't them," Sirius said.

"Correct. It absolutely wasn't. That chalice is a recruiting tool for Death Eaters," Remus said. "The Order had some intelligence of its existence, last time. One of your less savoury family members must have left it here for safekeeping. As far as I can tell from actually examining it now, the chalice is meant to show you your absolute deepest desire—and how Voldemort can give it to you."

Sirius slumped back on the ground. He rubbed at his eyes.

Remus rolled onto his back too, staring at the ceiling.

"It didn't work," Sirius said.

"No," Remus said. "But for the chalice to appeal to you, for it to beckon you to drink, it must have felt quite strongly that you were unhappy."

Sirius stared at the ceiling until his heart rose to his throat and burst.

"I miss them, Remus," he said, voice cracking. "When I was in that world, all those stupid, _stupid_ little details about them came back and I loved them all. It was like… like part of the air I breathed had come back."

"I miss them too," Remus said softly. "I missed all of you, for twelve years…"

"When they died, Remus, my life ended," Sirius said. "It just did. Even if they were, say, to prove my innocence tomorrow, there is no way to truly undo just how profoundly my life is… ruined. I miss them, Remus, more than I can ever explain and more than I'll ever recover from. But every time I do that, I also miss myself."

Remus, to his credit, did not try to comfort him.

"I notice the quietness and the drinking, and I hear your nightmares sometimes," Remus said. "Is that really how you feel, Sirius? As if your life is ruined?"

"Look at me and what the last 14 years have done and tell me that it isn't," Sirius said.

Remus was silent for a second, then he reached out and took Sirius' hand.

"I can't promise you anything," Remus said. "But there are few things rarer than a true ending. And there's no use in games of 'what if.' But the Lily and James that you saw, who survived Voldemort's attack on their son... it wasn't them. We can't change what happened to them, to us."

"It wasn't them," Sirius said.

"It wasn't them," Remus confirmed.

"But this is us."

"Yes," Remus said, squeezing his hand again. "This is us."

* * *

**Stacked with:** MC4A; Eternal Rhapsody; Summer Bingo; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Quidditch League

**Individual Challenge(s):** Gryffindor MC (x4); Marauders Tales; Bow Before the Blacks; Fall Leaves; Seeds; Tissue Warning; Minerva's Migraine; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Themes and Things A (Regret); Themes and Things B (Guilt); Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Way to the Heart

**Representation(s):** Grief; loss; second chances

**Bonus challenge(s):** A Long Dog; Eternal Boredom; Second Verse (Rediscovery); Chorus (Found Family)

**Tertiary bonus challenge:** NA

* * *

_**Summer Bingo**_

**Space Address (Prompt):** 2C (Desire)

* * *

_**Shipping War**_

**Ship (Team):** Lily Evans and James Potter (Patronus Pair)

**List (Prompt):** Summer Medium 2 (Dimension Hop)


End file.
